Life in a Sackhttp://lifeinasack.net
The Trials and Tribulations of a BackpackerSat, 17 Feb 2018 00:43:30 +0000en-UShourly1https://wordpress.org/?v=4.7.91985211637.801878-122.410181LifeInASackhttps://feedburner.google.comSubscribe with My Yahoo!Subscribe with NewsGatorSubscribe with My AOLSubscribe with BloglinesSubscribe with NetvibesSubscribe with GoogleSubscribe with PageflakesSubscribe with Live.comOnce Upon a Time in Turkeyhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeInASack/~3/W8I30qxRtBc/
http://lifeinasack.net/once-upon-a-time-in-turkey/#respondMon, 08 May 2017 19:56:01 +0000http://lifeinasack.net/?p=3996They say in life, timing is everything. Travel is no exception. Yearly seasons determine where summer birds flock for somewhere warm and snow lovers somewhere cold. Annual events like Mardi Gras and Carnival draw people from all over the world. Places that are great for solo travel may be tough with a family and hikes that someone could’ve tackled in […]

Yearly seasons determine where summer birds flock for somewhere warm and snow lovers somewhere cold. Annual events like Mardi Gras and Carnival draw people from all over the world. Places that are great for solo travel may be tough with a family and hikes that someone could’ve tackled in their youth may be impossible in their 50’s.

Timing also affects entire countries. Those that are rapidly developing may completely transform in 5-10 years while unexpected events in geopolitics may change things even faster.

– – –

It’s been a little over two years since I returned from Turkey. I’ll admit that the country was never high up on my list. My friend invited me to his wedding in Pakistan and Istanbul provided an easy routing choice through Dubai and then onto Karachi. So why not make a trip out if it?

In the planning stages of the trip, one of the main concerns was ISIS. This was mid-2015 and ISIS had emerged as a legitimate threat. With Syria bordering Turkey, concerns around a terrorist attack were real. As the year wore on, I had hopes that the UN military campaign would defeat ISIS and bring relative peace to the region. Things seemed to be working as ISIS occupied territory shrank everyday. In addition, the heavily touristed areas of Turkey were hundreds of miles away from the Syrian border. Airplane tickets already booked, I decided not to cancel and go on with the trip.

– – –

Speaking of timing, winter in Turkey is definitely not the best time to go. But when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.

Istanbul had beautiful weather for a couple days before a large snowstorm hit. Hundreds, if not thousands, of flights were cancelled around the country. I experienced the coldest weather in my life in Cappadocia and Antalya, usually the sunny warm jewel on the coast, was empty, rainy, and dreary.

Vendor selling roasted nuts near the Hagia Sophia.

While this trip was not the usual warm tropical vacation of yore, it did have its moments. Seeing the snow-covered mosques in Istanbul and the powder-topped rock formations in Cappadocia provided a striking contrast between the power of man and the beauty of nature. Hiding from the snow in street stalls while sipping on hot Turkish tea made me feel like I was in some movie. Cruising the Bosphorus in a thick cloudy haze while teaching a Turkish family how to play Uno would’ve never happened had I been basking in the sun instead. Smaller crowds at major attractions and cities were another added plus.

Snow covered hills of Cappadocia.

It was a unique look at a timeless country but unfortunately, likely the last time it was safe and sane to visit Turkey for a long while.

– – –

Since early January 2016, the past year half have brought tourism in Turkey to a screeching halt. Increasing terrorist attacks and political unrest have completely changed the landscape of the country. In Istanbul alone, six attacks occurred throughout 2016.

Keep in mind, these were only attacks that occurred in Istanbul and there were far more that happened in the capital of Ankara and other cities.

As if this were not enough, on July 15, 2016, the Turkish military launched a coup against President Erdoğan. The uprising was swiftly crushed and what followed was the arrest and purge of huge swaths of the Turkish civilian population including judges, teachers, soldiers, and normal civilians.

The end result has been a dictatorial president solidifying his power and increasingly turning Turkey into an Islamist and autocratic country. Free speech and protesting have been suppressed and the ruling government recently blocked Wikipedia.

Not surprisingly, tourists took notice. In 2015, there were over 36 million visitors. This dropped drastically in 2016 to 25 million, representing an enormous 30% year over year decline. Levels this low haven’t been seen since 2010 and it’s likely 2017 will drop even further. Most western governments have set up travel warnings and it doesn’t look like the ISIS threat will be decreasing any time soon.

– – –

It’s such a shame what has happened to Turkey in the last year and a half. At this point, I’m not sure what can turn things around or how long such a recovery will take. The political environment is extremely hostile and continuing terrorist attacks only make matters worse.

For the Turkish people, it means increasing government suppression of civil liberties, a decrease in income from tourists, and a constant overhanging threat from Islamic extremist. It’s a sad state of affairs as normal citizens suffer.

But alas, that is the reality. And turning back to my original point: timing is everything. Had I not gone to Turkey when I did, it’s likely I would not have gone for a long time, if ever. Countries can change in the blink of an eye and it’s impossible to predict what they’ll look like afterwards.

In life and travel, it’s important to take advantage of opportunities when they arise because you never know how long they’ll last.

]]>http://lifeinasack.net/once-upon-a-time-in-turkey/feed/03996http://lifeinasack.net/once-upon-a-time-in-turkey/Strange Hostels and Surviving Concepciónhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeInASack/~3/nN263_gSRBk/
http://lifeinasack.net/strange-hostels-and-surviving-concepcion/#respondFri, 04 Mar 2016 06:41:29 +0000http://lifeinasack.net/?p=3967I watched as the perfectly symmetrical cone shaped volcano appeared in the distance. Isla Ometepe lay ahead as we rocked back and forth on the gentle waves of Lago Nicaragua. After I had hurriedly passed through Leon and Grenada, I was looking forward to spending a couple of days chilling on an island. Ometepe is defined by its two volcanoes: Concepción […]

I watched as the perfectly symmetrical cone shaped volcano appeared in the distance. Isla Ometepe lay ahead as we rocked back and forth on the gentle waves of Lago Nicaragua. After I had hurriedly passed through Leon and Grenada, I was looking forward to spending a couple of days chilling on an island.

Ometepe is defined by its two volcanoes: Concepción to the north and Maderas in the south. There’s a road around each and a smaller road that connects the two. The Nicaraguans have turned large tracts of the northern island into arable farmland but much of the island still belonged to the jungle. As the rickety old wooden boat slowly plodded it’s way to the main port, I knew this wasn’t going to be an island packed with resorts and first world comforts.

No, this was going to be a bit more raw.

– – –

The island had a Jurassic Park feel to it. The narrow roads were lined with thick green jungle while the volcanoes dominated the view towards the interior. We hopped in a van and made our way south in search of rooms. Word on the street was that there were two popular hostels on the island: Little Morgan’s and Zopilote. I ended up at the former… big mistake.

The road down to Little Morgan’s.

Little Morgan’s sits downhill from the main road. The rooms were all open air huts with grass thatch roofs. Being open air, each of the beds had a mosquito net. I picked a bed and when I went to go put my sack down, I noticed a lot of little black dots on the white sheets. Confused, I stuck my head closer and realized that the dots were in fact dead fruit (or related kin) flies. Gross, but not the end of the world. I picked the bed with the least amount of deceased flies, brushed them out, and headed to reception.

The rooms at Little Morgan’s.

There are some hostels where the vibe is chilled out, others where it’s a rager, and others where it’s straight up weird. Little Morgan’s was definitely the latter. The common area resembled what I could only imagine a jungle drug den looks like. Some parts of the ground were paved with concrete but a lot of it was just packed dirt. Grass thatched roofs covered the entire area making it really dark even though it was the middle of the day. People lazed around in the hammocks and tables, some sleeping, some smoking, and some drinking. All of them seemed dazed and confused.

But at least they had a great view at the back of the hostel.

You travel enough and you’ll eventually meet people who have stayed in one place for far too long. Little Morgan’s was full of them. These were people who originally planned on visiting for a few days but ended up liking it so much that they extended for weeks to months or started working there. Inside jokes and banter are the only type of conversation amongst the old guard and as an outsider, you feel like you’ve stumbled upon some secret cult. For many of these people, their entire world had shrunk down to the hostel and the “regulars”, almost as if they were living in some fantasy land.

– – –

I would’ve left Little Morgan’s sooner but I planned on climbing Concepción the next morning. At 5,280 feet, it’s no walk in the park. We woke up at the crack of dawn so we could start climbing by 6am. The hike began in an open patch of volcanic rocks. It was fairly flat to start but as I saw from the boat ride in, the volcano only got steeper the higher we went.

Near the start of the hike.

Within half an hour, we were in thick brush and trees. There were parts where you literally had to grab on to branches to pull yourself up. Without our guide, I would’ve gotten completely lost. This wasn’t Yosemite with well maintained paths, marked trails, and a park map. This was Nicaragua, the second poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, in the middle of an island, climbing up a volcano where some guys had found a path up.

That’s not to say our guide wasn’t knowledgeable. He knew every twist and turn on the mountain but he was more or less on his own. You see, there is no such thing as government funds to maintain trails or facilities. They didn’t give a damn about the mountain and whatever tourism it may draw. This was just us versus nature, with nature trying to kick us off the mountain every step of the way. We could either push on and conquer the mountain or be pussies and give up.

The view halfway up.

Well I hadn’t come all this way to be a pussy. About half way through, I grew tired of the slog and jammed in my headphones to try and sprint the rest of the way, adhering to my philosophy of “might as well get it over with as fast as you can” when it comes to long climbs. As I ascended, I ended up completely enveloped in a cloud. I had climbed through the the morass of vegetation and a barren field of sharp volcanic rocks lay ahead of me. Not much grew up here and with thick fog in every direction, it kind of looked like Mt. Doom, minus the whole fire and ring parts.

Near the top.

Visibility was pretty poor.

I scrambled up further until I smelled sulfur. Not wanting to accidentally fall to my death in the crater, I stopped. I was well ahead of the group so I waited for the rest of them to catch up. We stayed at the top for 15-20 minutes to rest and eat our packed lunches. Then we started making our way down.

Stopping for lunch.

This is when I narrowly escaped serious injury. I had grown confident, even cocky, about how well I could navigate the rocks going down. I was moving at a pretty fast pace when my left foot hit a loose patch of rocks. The next thing I remembered was rolling over my left shoulder down the mountain. The sky and ground whirled past me and I felt the sharp stings of getting cut. Somehow, I caught myself standing up after two complete rolls and stopped, dazed and bloody.

The sharp rocks cut up my hands, arms, and legs. Combined with the moisture from the fog, my arm was a soaking mess of water and blood. The guide was in disbelief over what happened. He had never seen anything like it and luckily I had avoided injuries to my head or face. I thought about the time and effort it had taken to climb up the mountain and had I broken a leg or twisted an ankle, Nicaragua would’ve likely been a very different trip. After taking some time to bandage up the cuts, I started (this time a lot more carefully) heading down.

Gorgeous views on the way down… after surviving my fall.

Five hours and fifty two minutes after we started the hike, we were back to the start. The tallest mountain on the island had been conquered and I could now go back and lick my wounds.

]]>http://lifeinasack.net/strange-hostels-and-surviving-concepcion/feed/03967http://lifeinasack.net/strange-hostels-and-surviving-concepcion/5 Days, 3 Cities, 2 Volcanoes: Only in Nicaraguahttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeInASack/~3/wxYOTUmGzI4/
http://lifeinasack.net/5-days-3-cities-2-volcanoes-only-in-nicaragua/#commentsMon, 08 Feb 2016 19:36:45 +0000http://lifeinasack.net/?p=3939I get the feeling that Nicaragua is sort of the bastard child of Central America. It’s not as overlooked as El Salvador, but then again, not many countries are overlooked as much as El Salvador. North of Nicaragua, Guatemala is often viewed as the highlight of Central America with it’s beautiful colonial towns, lakes, and Tikal ruins. Belize offers […]

I get the feeling that Nicaragua is sort of the bastard child of Central America. It’s not as overlooked as El Salvador, but then again, not many countries are overlooked as much as El Salvador.

North of Nicaragua, Guatemala is often viewed as the highlight of Central America with it’s beautiful colonial towns, lakes, and Tikal ruins. Belize offers the stunningly blue and warm Caribbean waters and Honduras, while plagued with violence, has arguably the best diving in the region. To the south, Costa Rica is an eco-tourists’ wet dream and the Latin playground for gringos (which made it, in my opinion, sort of a shit hole) while Panama has it’s gorgeous islands and the world famous Panama Canal.

Nicaragua is in the middle of all that, half forgotten, merely a pass-through for many people going from one place to the next. Maybe that was why it took me so long to get there.

– – –

Managua, like most Central American capitals, is a massive, sprawling, run down place. I landed there at night and didn’t get a proper look but I also didn’t have the urge to stick around and find out: I don’t think there’s all that much to do and time wasn’t on my side.

About the only thing I did do in Managua was eat the street chicken.

One thing I did notice in my brief time there were signs of the crippling poverty that pervades the country. Nicaragua is the second poorest country in the Western Hemisphere; Haiti is the first. On my way to Nicaragua’s version of Walmart, I saw a bunch of inflatable pools lying around in dirt, all tied to an adjacent fence. It seemed a little strange because it was nighttime and there didn’t seem to be anyone watching them. As I walked a bit further, I saw a little wooden stand next to the pools. Scattered around were bags of clothing and other household items. In the back of the stand, I saw a family sleeping in a couple hammocks.

I suddenly realized that these people were sleeping on the streets, trying to scratch out a living selling kiddie pools. They probably had their entire inventory of goods, which couldn’t have amounted to much more than a couple hundred dollars, laid out on the sidewalk.

These weren’t the San Francisco homeless people I had grown accustomed to. They weren’t panhandling, getting hammered, and shitting on the sidewalk. These people were legitimately trying to make a living but simply could not afford a proper roof over their heads.

And compared to some people in the country, they had it good. Although I didn’t go to it, Anthony Bourdain had an episode where he visited La Churecawhich is Spanish slang for “dump city”. In a nutshell, it’s a giant open air landfill where hundreds of families live and work by sorting through trash and selling whatever valuables they can find.

Welcome to Nicaragua.

– – –

After busting out of Managua, I headed to Leon followed by Granada a couple days later. Every time I go to Latin America, I look forward to spending time in a colonial town. There’s something incredibly charming about the old Spanish buildings, the brightly colored churches, and the lively central plazas. For all the terrible things the Spaniards did, at least they left behind a lot of beautiful cities.

The main church in Leon.

The general impression of Leon and Granada is that the former is more rough and tumble. I definitely found this to be true. Leon was more of a city where normal Nicaraguans lived and worked and it lacked the spick and span tourist facade many cities have. A lot of the buildings had chipped paint, the roads were cracked, and you could really see the dirt and grime of daily life.

Another view of the church in Leon.

Be like Mike, Leon style.

Grenada was a lot smaller and everything looked a lot newer. It had one broad pedestrian-only avenue filled with tour operators hawking every tour under the sun and tourist friendly restaurants with outdoor seating. The central plaza was filled with stalls selling crappy souvenirs and surrounded by horse and carriages ready to take any willing tourist on an overpriced tour of the city.

Overlooking the main church in Grenada.

A close up view. Grenada, Nicaragua.

Although I did enjoy both places, the highlight was not the cities themselves but rather the volcanoes I visited nearby. In Leon, we hiked up the Telica volcano around sunset. From near the top, we could see the miles of flat jungles and farmland surrounding us. After the sun went down, we carefully headed over to the crater (which had no rails) and saw glimpses of the faint red glow of magma hundreds of feet below.

The view of Telica. Near Leon, Nicaragua.

The view inside the crater. It’s a several hundred foot fall if you happen to slip over the edge.

In Grenada, we visited the Masaya volcano. Since most of Nicaragua’s volcanoes are active, the tour guide handed us sulfur masks. I thought it was a joke at first. Several minutes later, a giant cloud of sulfur starts sweeping over the parking lot and we’re furiously putting on and adjusting our masks. Guess it wasn’t a joke.

Those aren’t clouds, that’s sulfur. Masaya Volcano, Nicaragua.

Wish I had brought my wide angle lens. This crater was even deeper and bigger than Telica.

We hiked up a path behind the volcano which gave way to a sweeping 360 degree view of what seemed like most of the country. I could see a line of volcanoes running from North to South giving credence to Nicaragua’s “Land of Fire” nickname. The massive Lago Nicaragua loomed in the south while the Pacific could be seen in the west and the Caribbean far far away to the east. I could see the cities and towns that dotted the otherwise lush green carpet but it certainly seemed like nature still ruled in this land.

View from the top. Masaya, Nicaragua

– – –

I really didn’t spend all that time in either city, only a couple of nights. If I had more time I definitely would’ve stayed longer but I wanted to get to what would end up being the best part of the trip: Isla Ometepe.

]]>http://lifeinasack.net/5-days-3-cities-2-volcanoes-only-in-nicaragua/feed/13939http://lifeinasack.net/5-days-3-cities-2-volcanoes-only-in-nicaragua/Paris, France: November 13, 2015http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeInASack/~3/ksfcfdTDWyw/
http://lifeinasack.net/paris-france-november-13-2015/#commentsWed, 18 Nov 2015 08:01:25 +0000http://lifeinasack.net/?p=3920November 13, 2015 will go down in French history as their 9/11. It will be remembered as the day that everything changed, the day that innocence was lost. France has certainly suffered in the past from attacks like the Charlie Hebdo shootings but what happened that night was something far more sinister, far more evil than […]

November 13, 2015 will go down in French history as their 9/11. It will be remembered as the day that everything changed, the day that innocence was lost.

France has certainly suffered in the past from attacks like the Charlie Hebdo shootings but what happened that night was something far more sinister, far more evil than anything since World War II. It was a senseless, barbaric attack where the motive was to murder for the sake of murder. 130 people died, with hundreds more injured for no sane reason.

As I watched from afar, separated by the Atlantic Ocean and the 3,000 miles of the United States, I couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of sadness and anger. While we hear of shootings, bombings, and deaths almost everyday, most of these incidents happen in some dark corner of the world, where the people have little in common with us. We read about these incidents, process the information, feel a tinge of sadness, and move on with our lives.

But this time it was different. This time it was France. And not some small village in France but Paris, the City of Light, the cultural epicenter of the world. A place that all of us know and many of us have been. It happened to people like you or I, doing things that we would do on a Friday night: eating dinner, going out to bars, going to a concert. It happened in a country that happens to be our oldest ally, a loyal friend, and in many ways, a brother who’s been with us since the beginning.

– – –

You might think that last sentence I wrote was a mistake. After all, it’s easy to think of all the negative French stereotypes. But all that really does is surface the ignorance of the people who see France that way. A lot of people forget, or simply don’t know, how deep our relationship with France is.

If it were not for the French, America would not exist.

Back in 1775, France sent generals, men, supplies, and money to fight against the British in the American Revolution. The French General Lafayette, for which many American parks and towns are named after, helped destroy the British fleet and played a critical role in the Siege of Yorktown which proved to be a turning point in the war. Without French help, it is almost certain that the United States would have lost the war.

The Statue of Liberty, the most famous landmark in all of America, was a gift from the French to commemorate the ideals of freedom and democracy that were being realized in America at the time.

D-Day, the largest invasion in human history, occurred on the beaches of Normandy. Thousands of Americans died on French soil and to this day, towns in that area honor the American dead by flying American flags and decorating the soldiers’ graves.

The people of France stood with us after 9/11, remembering the victims the day after with a laying of the American flag in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Remembering the victims of 9/11, the day after the attacks.

On the 10th anniversary of the attacks, they erected a memorial signifying they have not forgotten and that they never will forget.

Paris, 9/11/11.

Think about all the French influence in our daily lives. The culture, food, and art that have become as Americana as hot dogs and hamburgers. Longer than England, Canada, Germany or any other country on this planet, France has had our backs for as long as we’ve existed.

– – –

And so we will press on, together. As the initial shock and terror subside, those feelings will soon be replaced with grief and sorrow. But as the French did for us, we will stand with them and support them.

I used to be highly cynical towards what has been dubbed as “slacktivism”: the Twitter hashtags, Facebook profile picture filters, and any other low effort, low commitment change that people make in the wake of a tragedy. I used to think it was all bullshit self-gratification, a way to pat yourself on the back for doing something.

But I think I’ve wizened up over the years. I’ve come to realize that it isn’t all bullshit and that it can do something. It’s not about patting yourself on the back. It’s about showing that people care and stand together with the victims. That, to those affected, means a lot. Will changing your photo take down a terrorist leader? No. But it may very well lift someone’s spirits to see that solidarity expressed around the world.

It proves that even in a world as large and different as ours, people do care about each other. People will stand together, support one another, and fight the good fight. And it’s also a reminder that despite what evil may come from this world, good will always, always, triumph.

– – –

France will move on. It will move on with it’s own people and the rest of the world behind it. The people of Paris will return to the restaurants, the bars, and the concert halls. Laughter and smiles will yet again fill the boulevards. The way of life these bastards sought to disrupt will return to normal. This return to normalcy will mark the ultimate victory over these barbarians. It shows that as hard as they may try, they cannot change what is good.

The scars of November 13 will slowly fade with time but it will never be forgotten. I will never forget, nor will the world, and, certainly, not the resilient and courageous people of France.

]]>http://lifeinasack.net/paris-france-november-13-2015/feed/23920http://lifeinasack.net/paris-france-november-13-2015/Why Facebook is Ruining Hostelshttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeInASack/~3/Uk72DJ2A5eg/
http://lifeinasack.net/why-facebook-is-ruining-hostels/#commentsTue, 28 Apr 2015 06:33:55 +0000http://lifeinasack.net/?p=3895I recently took a trip to Nicaragua while between jobs. It was only for 10 days but I managed to see a lot and get a good sense of the country. It also happened to be the first time traveling alone in a long time. Since I was traveling alone, I ended up staying in […]

I recently took a trip to Nicaragua while between jobs. It was only for 10 days but I managed to see a lot and get a good sense of the country. It also happened to be the first time traveling alone in a long time.

Since I was traveling alone, I ended up staying in hostels. As I’ve written in the past, hostels are great. They are places where you can meet like-minded people that want to do like-minded things. Sometimes you get the raw end of the stick and end up in a dark, cramped, dorm room but more often than not, they are one of the highlights of a trip.

But there’s something that’s dramatically changed the atmosphere of hostels in the past few years. The first time I stayed in one was Europe in 2007. Back then, no one had smart phones. Wifi wasn’t ubiquitous and people actually had to make an effort to find a computer and get on the internet. Same with Southeast Asia and South America in ’09. Sure, it was a couple years later, but in the less developed parts of the world, the internet revolution had not quite caught on.

I remember very clearly walking, in the sweltering Bangkok heat, to an internet cafe, opening the door, feeling the blast of the ice cold AC, and sitting down to let my friends and family know that I was still alive and kicking. Back then, you couldn’t really dilly dally online because the bastards are charging you by the minute and the connection was shitty. You went in there, fired off a few important emails, maybe peeked at your ever precious Facebook feed and some news, and got out.

So you may be thinking, “Wow, that really sucks. Paying for internet by the minute?! Actually needing to physically go somewhere to go online?!” And you’re right, paying by the minute does kinda suck and so does not having internet access at your finger tips. But with that being said, if I had a choice, I’d choose that experience over what hostels have become now.

– – –

Maybe it’s a case of looking at the past with rose colored glasses but I remember hostels as being incredibly social. A lot more social than they are now. People still read their books and did their own thing but a much larger part of the time was spent socializing with others. When you came back from a day of sight seeing, you ended up making your way to the bar or common area and having a chat with whoever else happened to be in the room.

This last trip to Nicaragua, sometimes I didn’t know if I was staying in a hostel or a drug den. At all times of the day, I’d see people with their faces buried in their iPhones, the faint glow of the screen revealing just how much they drank the night prior, mindlessly browsing something or another on Facebook. They would sit motionless except for the casual flick of their thumb as they scrolled through their never ending news feed.

The ease of pulling out your phone, logging into the free wifi, and jumping on your Instagram, Facebook, what not, has made it so that legions of backpackers spend entire days sitting around browsing social media. You don’t have to walk down the street in the sweltering heat, you don’t have to choose between spending your money on internet or beer, and you don’t have to interact with the real world if you don’t want to. And so these people, phone in hand, waste away their days in the virtual world.

– – –

So what’s the big deal? I guess it depends on the perspective. On one hand, I’m a firm believer that vacations are your time, your money, and therefore you get to do whatever the hell you want. Me judging others goes directly against that belief. On the other hand, it’s really such a shame to see people spending their days in a foreign country browsing Facebook on their phones. There’s so many things to see, do, and experience outside of your familiar little social media bubble. The next time you find yourself immersed in your phone, you should really ask yourself, “What’s the point of traveling half way around the world if all I’m going to do is check on what’s going on at home?”

Maybe this is a classic “get off my lawn” moment for me. Maybe I’m just getting old and don’t truly appreciate all the rich, insightful, and inspiring posts on Facebook, Instagram, and whatever else is out there. Maybe I simply don’t get it.

But I also remember a time before social media became intimately interwoven into our daily lives. And I remember that those times were great. So maybe, just maybe, I could be right about this.

]]>http://lifeinasack.net/why-facebook-is-ruining-hostels/feed/73895http://lifeinasack.net/why-facebook-is-ruining-hostels/Brazil, The World Cup, and Traveling With Your Broshttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeInASack/~3/gfgPkBWZ8-U/
http://lifeinasack.net/brazil-the-world-cup-and-traveling-with-your-bros/#respondTue, 16 Sep 2014 15:37:15 +0000http://lifeinasack.net/?p=3876About a year ago, four of my friends and I had the idea of going to Brazil for the 2014 World Cup. It was one of those things that seemed doomed from the very beginning: coordinating vacation time, getting visas, finding accommodation during the world’s largest sporting event, and getting the expensive flights were just a few of the many obstacles. Personally, […]

About a year ago, four of my friends and I had the idea of going to Brazil for the 2014 World Cup. It was one of those things that seemed doomed from the very beginning: coordinating vacation time, getting visas, finding accommodation during the world’s largest sporting event, and getting the expensive flights were just a few of the many obstacles.

Personally, I didn’t have much faith that we would actually get our shit together and pull it off. Planning a trip by yourself is one thing, corralling a bunch of cats and dogs to do the same is another. But little by little, the plan came together: we bought our flights, won the match ticket lottery, got our visas, and booked the accommodation.

As the days ticked down to my departure date, I realized that I was soon to be in Brazil, often said to be the spiritual center of football, for the greatest sporting event in the world, with four of my best friends. This was going to be a whole ‘nother level.

– – –

I landed a day early and checked into El Misti House in Copacabana. A smaller hostel, it had the infamous Brazilian triple bunks that may put you in an eternal sleep if you fall off from the top. Fortunately, I had chosen a quadruple room with only double bunks. Last time I was in Rio, I stayed in Ipanema so this was actually my first time sleeping in Copa. While geographically close, I found the two neighborhoods to be very different.

Ipanema is a much higher end neighborhood and generally seems quieter and cleaner. Despite the fact that it was a bit more run down, Copacabana had a much livelier atmosphere. Everywhere you went you saw corner juice stores, sandwich shops, and people hustling and bustling. Ipanema, in comparison, seemed like a ghost town.

Other than my change in locale, I felt like not much of Rio had changed, at least based on what I remembered from ’09. There were still a ton of local restaurants, the people were just as friendly, and they still loved their Brahmas and meat. For me, the most noticeable change was the absence of the “colectivos” that used to run down Avenida Atlantica, the main road connecting Ipanema to Copa. There were many nights where I got home by jumping in a shitty run down van, squeezing in with a bunch of other drunkards, and holding on for dear life. Fast forward five years and a World Cup bid, Rio had clean city buses running the route. A part of me missed the white knuckle thrill ride but at the same time, it was nice not having to risk my life every time I wanted to get home.

– – –

Rio de Janeiro, as beautiful as ever.

I sat in the hostel lobby the next morning eating breakfast and nursing a hangover. We had gone out in Lapa the night before and I had drank my fair share of caipirinhas and beer.

Lapa is the party spot in Rio and is famous for it’s distinctive aqueduct and cobble stone roads. On Friday and Saturday nights, the entire district goes nuts. Foreigners and locals alike pile into the neighborhood to party in the streets and bars. Not only is it packed, it’s also surprisingly cheap. Street vendors hawk ice cold beers and ridiculously strong caipirinhas for a few reais each. Sounds like a dream right? However, with that many people, and that much booze flowing, it’s inevitable that it all has to go… somewhere. As such, some streets in Lapa are literally rivers of piss. Lapa is fun, just be careful where you step.

As I finished my breakfast, I heard a familiar voice behind me ask Victoria, the receptionist, “We’re looking for our friend Paul, he’s staying here.” Nonchalantly, as if meeting them at home vs. thousands of miles away in a foreign land, I turned around.

“Sup?”

Brian and Devon had arrived. The party was… half on. After they put their stuff away, we immediately hit the beach. Copacabana was as gorgeous as ever and because the World Cup had yet to start, it was not completely overcrowded either.

One of the best feelings in the world is having an amazing time at the start of a trip and realizing that it’s only day one. While the rest of our friends were back at home working and going through the normal day to day life, here we were, in Rio de Janiero, for the World Cup, on a world famous beach, frolicking in the water like goddamn school girls. It’s one of those moments where you can’t help but smile like you just won the fucking lottery.

Weston and Misha finally arrived in the afternoon. The crew was complete. Against all odds, these knuckleheads had made it. 2014 World Cup Brazil, was actually going to become a reality.

– – –

The easy thing about traveling with guys is that choosing a place to eat is usually pretty easy. When in Brazil, you have to have eat BBQ so the first dinner we had was at Braseiro. An old fashioned type of place, manned by guys who know the grill inside and out, Braseiro was probably one of the best places we ate during the trip. The BBQ was plentiful, tasty and cheap; the service excellent; and the beer ice cold. All of which explains why we went back another two times.

With food out of the way, the main activity of the trip came into full focus: drinking. With five dudes all looking to party, it wouldn’t be light drinking either. The day before, in the midst of a terrible jet lag due to the complete lack of sleep on my flight, I had discovered an energy drink unique to Brazil by the name of “TNT”. This mixed with rum or any sort of liquor would soon be dubbed a “stick of dynamite” and would follow us for the rest of the trip.

Back in our room, with a bottle of Ron Montilla rum and five sticks of TNT, the drinking got underway. Music blasting, bullshit flying, and liquor flowing, I thought to my self, “My god… it has begun.”

The tone of the trip had been set. This wouldn’t be a relaxed, laid back trip. No, this was going to be a completely different animal.

]]>http://lifeinasack.net/brazil-the-world-cup-and-traveling-with-your-bros/feed/03876http://lifeinasack.net/brazil-the-world-cup-and-traveling-with-your-bros/A Guide to the Torres del Paine “W” Trekhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeInASack/~3/l9GMOkuKXvY/
http://lifeinasack.net/a-guide-to-the-torres-del-paine-w-trek/#commentsTue, 25 Mar 2014 16:11:08 +0000http://lifeinasack.net/?p=3670The W Trek in Torres del Paine, Chile was one of the greatest treks I’ve ever been on. It captures the essence of Patagonia and is one of the premier hikes in all of South America. During my research beforehand, I found some bits of info here and there but nothing very comprehensive. By the […]

The W Trek in Torres del Paine, Chile was one of the greatest treks I’ve ever been on. It captures the essence of Patagonia and is one of the premier hikes in all of South America.

During my research beforehand, I found some bits of info here and there but nothing very comprehensive. By the time we arrived in Puerto Natales, we only had a very general idea of what we needed for the trek and ended up scrambling to get everything in order. To save you that trouble, I’m going to write down everything you need for the W trek right here, right now.

– – –

The Basics of the Trek

The W trek is typically a 4 to 5 day trek that goes from East to West or vice versa. Depending on where you start, you’ll either see the actual Torres (towers in English) on your first or last day. You’ll see the same stuff regardless of which direction you go.

However, there is one reason to consider direction: dealing with the finicky Patagonia weather. If the sky is clear when you get there, it’s best to start at Hosteria Las Torres in the east and see the Torres on your first day. If it’s pouring, you’re probably better off starting at Refugio Paine Grande and crossing your fingers that it will clear by the time you reach the Torres. Any sort of rain will make it nearly impossible to see the Torres as they’ll be hidden in the fog and clouds.

We met several people on the hike who did not see them at all!

The path in red denotes the typical W trek.

Completing the whole W usually takes 5 days and 4 nights.We went from the east to the west and finished early at Refugio Paine Grande, without going up to Glacier Gray. So for us, we spent 4 days and 3 nights on the trails.

– – –

What You’ll Need

Depending on your style and budget, you can either choose to camp & cook or stay in the refugios and buy meals. Prices in the refugios can be fairly high ($50+/night, $15 for a meal) and spots are hard to come by during busy season (Nov – Feb). If you’re going this route, you’ll only need your clothes.

Since we opted to go for the camp and cook route, we needed to be completely self sufficient. Luckily, there are plenty of places in Puerto Natales that rent gear. People recommend going to the Erratic Rock for pre-trip information. We didn’t and found that most places were very helpful.

For two people, this is what we ended up getting for ~$60/person, or ~$20/night:

1 waterproof, 2 person tent – make sure this is in good condition as it’ll likely rain

headlamp – don’t go camping without this, there are no lights in the camps

waterproof jacket – invaluable when you are caught in the rain

water proof pants – alternatively, you can man up like myself and wear basketball shorts while hiking

comfortable hiking or running shoes – waterproof hiking shoes were definitely something I wish I had

extra socks – your socks will get wet and nasty

clothes to change into at night – sweatshirts/sweatpants to wear around camp

gloves/beanie – it gets cold and the gloves are invaluable when you are packing a cold and wet tent

flip flops – your feet will thank you at night

hiking poles – optional but apparently they help a ton

Misc. things I found very useful:

match/lighter – you gotta light up the propane somehow

lots of garbage bags – keeps your stuff dry, keeps your stuff clean

toilet paper – bring a few rolls, not all campsites have public TP

wet wipes/anti-bacterial gel – you get stinky and dirty, have something to clean yourself with

Food is really up to the individual but generally speaking, make sure it is light and high energy. The main supermarket in Puerto Natales (Unimarc) does NOT have any special camping, dehydrated foods such as Mountain Packs. I didn’t check the specialty stores in town but I would assume they don’t have them or if they do, sell them incredibly overpriced. I would recommend to stick to the basics like pastas, breads, nuts, fruits, canned goods, and some cured meats.

As for water, the good news is that you don’tneed to worry about water! All the rivers and streams are perfectly safe to drink out of, even if there’s sediment. Just bring a refillable bottle and you are good to go.

Oh, and don’t forget the whiskey.

– – –

Details of the Days

The start of the W Trek.

During the summer season (Nov – Feb), the sun rises around 5am and doesn’t set until 10-11pm meaning you’ll almost always be hiking in daylight. This allows you to really take your time and set a pace that you are comfortable with. Below are quick summaries of each the days we hiked.

Day 1 – Start to Torres (~9km, 5.5hrs): Because we were fully loaded down with all our food and unused to hiking with heavy packs, this was probably one of the hardest days. There is a lot of uphill and downhill with many areas exposed to the stinging Patagonian wind that can literally blow you over.

On the way to Refugio Chileno.

We took the bus to Hosteria Las Torres, stopped at Refugio Chileno along the way to make lunch, and then continued the rest of the way to Camp Torres. After setting up camps, we hiked the hour or so to see the Torres and came down in the late afternoon.

Wet and soggy on day 2.

Day 2 – Camp Torres to Refugio Cuernos (~15km, 7 hrs): I had my alarm clock set to 4:00am so we could catch the sunrise at the Torres. Instead of clear skies like the previous day, we woke up to pouring rain. We ditched the sunrise idea, slept a bit longer, and finally dragged ourselves out to pack up our soaked tent into our damp bags.

Sunshine in the distance!

The rain continued falling and we seriously considered bailing on the entire trek. However, as we made our way out of the valley the rain tapered off and then in the distance, we saw a burst of sunshine through a gap in the clouds. Our spirits rejuvenated by this beacon of hope, we decided to continue on.

Amazing views of Lago Nordenskjold.

Day 2 ended up being the longest of the trek but also had some of the best views. As the clouds cleared up, we witnessed magnificent views of Lago Nordenskjold to the south of our path. The way was mostly flat and we crossed numerous rivers and small streams. By the time we reached Refugio Cuernos, we were pretty wiped but definitely glad we had continued on.

Day 3 – Refugio Cuernos to Camp Italiano and the Mirador (~6km, 3 hrs): A fairly easy day compared to the previous, we made our way to Camp Italiano and then the mirador in Valle Frances. At the top was one of the best views in the park: a massive glacier covered mountain overlooking a lake in front and behind you, the back side of the Torres.

The view from the Mirador in Valle Frances.

The backside of the Torres.

Day 4 – Camp Italiano to Refugio Paine Grande and out (~8km, 2.5 hrs): We woke up early and finished off the trek with a relatively easy hike to Refugio Paine Grande. We then took the catamaran across Lago Pehoe, waited for our bus, and made our way back to Puerto Natales.

On the way to Refugio Paine Grande.

In hindsight, I wish we had gone up north and seen Glacier Gray but I don’t think it was possible at the time. About a day prior, my left knee started hurting and by the time we reached Paine Grande, I was limping pretty badly. We also had run out of food and would’ve needed to make a round trip and spend the night at Paine Grande. Combined with the fact that we were pretty tired at this point, choosing to leave the park ended up being a pretty easy decision.

Chilean flag right outside of Refugio Paine Grande.

On the way to Paine Grande, we passed through a large patch of burned and dead forest thanks to an idiot Israeli arsonist. Remarkably, this was one of the only places in the park that we witnessed human destruction. The Chilean government has done a remarkable job of conservation and education within the park. There are steep fines for violating park rules which I think has done a great job in helping preserve the pristine condition of Torres del Paine.

– – –

Tough but beautiful, unpredictable yet accessible, the Torres del Paine W Trek is one of the great adventures in South America. Glaciers, mountains, lakes and rivers dot the windswept landscape and you truly get a sense of the vastness of Patagonia. It is a once-in-a-lifetime trip and should be experienced by everyone who enjoys the outdoors.

The view on the way out.

If you’re ever in Patagonia, make sure to go to Torres del Paine, even if you don’t do the trek. The sights there are something you’ll never forget in your life.

]]>http://lifeinasack.net/a-guide-to-the-torres-del-paine-w-trek/feed/13670http://lifeinasack.net/a-guide-to-the-torres-del-paine-w-trek/Latin America, We Meet Againhttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeInASack/~3/bJoizFzPEgs/
http://lifeinasack.net/latin-america-we-meet-again/#commentsThu, 06 Feb 2014 17:23:51 +0000http://lifeinasack.net/?p=3643I toiled through four years of high school Spanish and never did I think that it would be useful someday. At the time, it was just another class that I needed to graduate. I was really never great at it, let alone good. I failed pretty much every telenovela quiz, didn’t (and still don’t) understand the subjunctive […]

I toiled through four years of high school Spanish and never did I think that it would be useful someday. At the time, it was just another class that I needed to graduate. I was really never great at it, let alone good. I failed pretty much every telenovela quiz, didn’t (and still don’t) understand the subjunctive phrase, and could barely roll my R’s. Growing up in California, you meet your fair share of Hispanic people but I didn’t ever think I would actually have to be proficient Spanish.

Looking back, I guess it is was a bit naive. Not only is Spanish one of the most widely spoken languages in the world but it is the main language for nearly all of our neighbors to the South. Of course, at the time, I had never really been anywhere outside of China and Europe and remained fairly ignorant to what the rest of the world offered.

This all changed in March of 2009. When I landed in Quito with seven weeks and a return flight from Rio de Janiero, I faced the daunting prospect of traversing an entire continent to catch my flight home. And for the first time in my life, I realized maybe, just maybe, I should have tried a bit harder in high school Spanish…

– – –

Cusco, Peru at night.

It’s funny how fast you learn things when it’s by necessity. Slowly, I untangled the cobwebs in my brain and unearthed the bits of Spanish from four years prior. Little by little, week by week, my Spanish improved. By the end of my trip, my Spanish had improved to the point where I could hold a pretty decent conversation, provided that I was boozed up. I no longer felt disconnected from every non English speaker and with the language barrier down, the whole of Latin America opened up for me.

Life’s a beach in Caye Caulker, Belize. This was Christmas Day!

Since that first trip down, I’ve made five additional trips to Central and South America, with another planned in June of this year. Aug. 2010 was Honduras, followed by Guatemala and Belize in Dec. 2010. In 2011, I went to Colombia and then Costa Rica and Panama in the beginning of 2012. Just last month, it was a three week romp through Argentina, southern Chile, and Uruguay. These trips, combined with the countries I visited in 2009 means I’ve been to the majority of Central and South America.

Looking back, it amazes me how much time I’ve spent in this part of the world. In total, it’s around 5 months.

So why do I keep going back?!

– – –

One of the main reasons I love going down is that when it’s winter up here, it’s summer down there. Winter is when I get my longest holiday breaks and I like to go somewhere warm. This last trip, Buenos Aires was hovering in the mid to high 90’s while the US was freezing over in a “Polar Vortex”. In 2010, I spent Christmas day on a beach in Belize. In 2011, while most of the US watched the NFL playoffs in cold winter weather, I watched it from a bar on a beach in Costa Rica.

On the road in Honduras.

You simply can’t get that sort of surreal experience in the US, except maybe Florida (but then who wants to go to Florida?). Swimming in the ocean, hiking through hot and humid jungles, and walking around in tshirts and shorts in the depths of northern hemisphere wintertime makes me extremely happy and content.

With so many countries and such a vast swath of land, Latin America has so many different things to offer. Each country is so unique in culture, personality, and landscape. People from Andean countries like Ecuador, Peru, and Bolivia are a world apart compared to those from Argentina, Brazil, and Chile. Guatemala has their brightly colored and rickety chicken buses while their neighbor to the east, Belize, has a deep rooted rasta-Bob Marley culture. Honduras has tropical diving while Bolivia is home to the largest salt flat in the world. If you want to party all night you can in Buenos Aires, Medellin, and Cusco. Hiking? No problem, Patagonia is full of world class hikes while Peru and Colombia have their own signature hikes in Machu Picchu and Ciudad Perdida, respectively. You can ski, climb, white water raft, sand board, hang out on the beach, hike in the jungle or the mountains in Latin America. Pretty much any sort of activity you can think of, Latin America has.

In the Valley of the Moon, Chile.

Latin America is also closer to the US than a lot of other places. You can get to Central America in more or less 7-8 hours via two flights. Northern South America is slightly longer whereas the more Southern parts top out around 20 or so hours. While this may seem long, compare it to at least 15-20 hours to get to most parts of Asia, even longer for the Middle East and Africa. While some parts of Europe are closer, it shares the same winter as us which makes December vacations undesirable for me.

Perito Moreno Glacier, Argentina.

Another really attractive aspect of Latin America is that the majority of it is cheap compared to the US, Europe, and other developed countries. Most of the countries are still developing 2nd and 3rd world countries which makes everything cheaper. I’m a big fan of stretching my dollars and paying anywhere from 30-50% less than home is great. Of course, there are some places (Punta del Este, Brazilian and Chilean big cities) that cost equal, if not more than home but those are few and far between. I wrote a post a while ago that has some of the costs explained which you can see here.

The mighty Iguazu Falls from the Argentinian side.

The main falls.

Last, but certainly not least, I go to Latin America because it is home to some of the friendliest and warmest people I have ever met. While you do hear a lot about the violence and crime that occurs in many of the countries, I have yet to (knock on wood) personally meet anyone who was truly a dick. Everywhere I went, people were more than willing to help with directions and help translate when I was completely over my head. Warm smiles, joking laughter, and a very genuine sense of friendliness were the norm everywhere I went. And unlike some parts in Southeast Asia, no one tried to scam me.

Rio from Sugar Loaf.

– – –

After my first trip to Latin America, I would have never guessed that I would return another five times. Yet every time I get to see something new and amazing. Every time I’ve encountered different cultures, people, and sights and despite the fact that I’ve been fortunate enough to see a good deal of Latin America, there is still a lot more to explore.

The World Cup in Brazil will be my next trip to Latin America and if history is any guess, it certainly will not be my last.

]]>http://lifeinasack.net/latin-america-we-meet-again/feed/13643http://lifeinasack.net/latin-america-we-meet-again/I Don’t Always Travel, But When I Do, I Stay in Hostelshttp://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeInASack/~3/b58x5aLXvvA/
http://lifeinasack.net/i-dont-always-travel-but-when-i-do-i-stay-in-hostels/#commentsSat, 03 Aug 2013 15:01:34 +0000http://lifeinasack.net/?p=3620Backpacking to me is not only about the places you go and the things you do. A huge part of it are all the amazing people you meet along the way. It’s not often that you get to meet people from all over the world, who are seeing the same new things as you, and […]

Backpacking to me is not only about the places you go and the things you do. A huge part of it are all the amazing people you meet along the way. It’s not often that you get to meet people from all over the world, who are seeing the same new things as you, and who are in the same mindset of having fun.

But where exactly does one go to meet these other backpackers? Luckily, most major tourist places have figured this out long ago: hostels. Nothing like the horror scenes depicted in the movie “Hostel”, hostels are actually one of my favorite parts about traveling.

Compared to hotels, hostels are a completely different animal. Most of the time, you’ll be sleeping in bunks and sharing bathrooms. Personal space is usually limited to a locker and if you’re a light sleeper, pray that you don’t have a loud snorer in your room. General cleanliness tends to be little lower and you might find yourself kicked out (temporarily!) at some places so they can clean your room/remake your bed.

While these inconveniences may seem annoying, if you’re down to rough it a bit, it’s not a big deal. On the other hand, the positives at a good hostel far outweigh the downsides.

A good hostel provides an incredible atmosphere for meeting other backpackers. Not only are hostels a lot cheaper than hotels, they have great common areas. Good hostels will usually have a big lounge area, a stocked bar, planned group activities, and communal kitchens. All these shared spaces make meeting people incredibly easy and effortless. In a way, it’s almost like freshman year in the dorms, except you can drink and there are no RA’s! Everyone is really friendly and talkative, no one is really judging anyone else, and finding people to hang out with is really easy. You start talking to one person, next thing you know, you find yourself hitting the town with a group of 15.

– – –

Now you might wonder how hostels compare to offerings from Airbnb and other similar services. In general, I find that those sites will give you a better bang for your buck if you’re traveling with a group of people and looking for the most comfortable digs. But the downside is you’ll have a much harder time meeting people because you are somewhat isolated from other groups of people much like hotels.

As for booking? I usually use HostelWorld or HostelBookers. HostelBookers tends to be cheaper but has less availability. Usually you can find a discount code for HostelWorld so the point is moot. What will probably make the sites even more equal in the future is the fact that they merged in April of this year, joining what were the two 800 lbs gorillas under one roof.

]]>http://lifeinasack.net/i-dont-always-travel-but-when-i-do-i-stay-in-hostels/feed/23620http://lifeinasack.net/i-dont-always-travel-but-when-i-do-i-stay-in-hostels/Hydro Flask – The Most Amazing Bottle Ever!http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LifeInASack/~3/9LjkzRR4vQU/
http://lifeinasack.net/hydro-flask-the-most-amazing-bottle-ever/#commentsFri, 26 Jul 2013 06:45:08 +0000http://lifeinasack.net/?p=3613Often times we hear something that sounds too good to be true. Maybe it’s some guy selling a new iPhone on Craigslist for $50, or perhaps a very generous Nigerian prince, or one of those “as seen on TV” products that seems to be God’s gift to earth. Unfortunately, the majority of these stories end […]

Often times we hear something that sounds too good to be true. Maybe it’s some guy selling a new iPhone on Craigslist for $50, or perhaps a very generous Nigerian prince, or one of those “as seen on TV” products that seems to be God’s gift to earth.

Unfortunately, the majority of these stories end up being a scam or a massive disappointment. But sometimes, just sometimes, you find the unicorn product that actually lives up to it’s calling. A product that claims to do the extraordinary and when used, actually performs as promised.

– – –

The folks from Hydro Flask were kind enough to send me their 24oz narrow mouth water bottle as a sample to review. When they first contacted me, I thought, “Who the hell cares, it’s just a stupid water bottle.”

But as I read the description, I learned that it was the only “Double Wall Vacuum Insulated Stainless Steel Water Bottle” on the market. Ok… double wall means two walls, vacuum means there’s no air between, steel I get, water = H2O, bottle… got it. Sounded pretty space-agey to me, all for a water bottle. I poked around the website and found that they claimed it keeps liquids cold for 24 hours and warm for 12.

“Bullshit”, I thought. No way does this thing work that well. It’s the same size and volume as a normal steel water bottle and from the outside, you can’t tell the difference. So I decided to test it.

I happened to go to Sequoia National Park over the July 4th weekend. It also happened to be in the middle of a scorching heat wave. Daily temperatures hovered in the 90’s to 100’s and we had a couple long hikes planned out. I figured it would be a perfect opportunity to give this water bottle a spin. I have to admit, I felt like a huge nerd getting excited about it but the promise of ice cold water several hours into a hike seemed amazing. I filled up my Hydro Flask with ice and water while my friends used their plebeian plastic bottles.

The sequence of events went something like this:

1 hour in, the ice had melted in my friends’ bottles. Mine still had large chunks of ice.

2 hours in, my friends’ water was by this time lukewarm. Mine still had chunks. Thoroughly enjoying my ice cold water.

4 hours in, Hydro Flask still going strong. Bits of ice still floating around, still enjoying my chilled water and laughing at my pleb friends with their plastic bottles.

6 hours in, ice, ice, baby cold until the last drop.

In summary: FREAKIN’ AMAZING. The Hydro Flask kept the water ice cold the ENTIRE time until I finished it. Had I not drank any, I would not be surprised to wake up the next morning and see chunks of ice in it.

Ladies and gentlemen, the future is now. I, for one, welcome our new double vacuum walled water bottle overlords.